A Different Ending
by Lyria Padfoot
Summary: Alternate title could be Lyria Padfoot Goes Mental. Severus Snape gets together with a certain Gryffindor, and the story that goes with them... (Snape/Lyria for those of you who've read my other works)
1. Discoveries

A/N: This is the backstory to my AU Lyria/Snape fic. Someone demanded to know how they wound up together (even in my own twisted little mind, that was crazy) and hence, this was written. Enjoy! And Harry Potter isn't mine yet. Maybe next fic?  
  
This one's entirely from Snape's point of view, so no crazy switch of point of view. I felt a need to justify the cold, harsh former Death Eater falling in love. (Hey, at least Lyria's not a sap! She's a tough type! Hehe...)  
  
The idea of Snape owning a raven originates with someone else - J.L. Matthews, I believe.  
  
I hated these sorts of things. I've never been a socialite, though at least I had the excuse of my father's recent death to cover for my distraction. Play along. Listen. Report back to Dumbledore.  
  
Tonight, however, I tried to avoid all conversation and just listen. Everyone excused it, of course, which made things much easier for me.  
  
"It's curious that he hasn't made any sort of appearance, Lucius," Macnair was telling the host of this idiotic Halloween celebration.  
  
I hate parties.  
  
"The Dark Lord is busy this evening," Malfoy smiled maliciously. "He's off to the Potters."  
  
"The Potters? But rumor has it they've used the Fidelius Charm to hide themselves."  
  
"Their Secret Keeper is a bit less trustworthy than they thought," Malfoy replied. The grin was still on his face.  
  
Shit.  
  
Time to leave and get to Dumbledore before they were dead.  
  
I excused myself - had to visit Mother, after all, her first holiday without my father-and not a single one of them questioned. I apparated immediately to the school (just off the grounds, of course) and ran in a completely undignified manner to Dumbledore's office. "Headmaster!"  
  
"Lily and James already dead, Severus." He said quietly. "We're trying to let their friends know, but we've been unable to contact anyone but Lyria Strider." He paused. "I've sent Hagrid to get Harry. We'll need to bring him to his relatives.  
  
"The child?"  
  
"He lived. Voldemort has vanished."  
  
I noticed that Dumbledore hadn't said he'd died. He knew, of course, all the Dark Lord's steps toward attaining immortality; I had told him of them myself. "The child is alive? How?"  
  
"Lily sacrificed herself for him." Dumbledore said simply. There was a pause. "Severus, will you go check on Lyria?"  
  
"Strider?" I wrinkled my nose distastefully. We weren't exactly fond of each other. "Why me?"  
  
"Hagrid's out, Minerva's out, and I need to leave the staff with the students. I think you two might do each other some good."  
  
I wanted to say no. I wanted very badly to flat out refuse to go. If the Dark Lord was truly... well, out of the way, he no longer had any right to order me around.  
  
I tried, really I did, but I simply couldn't. I owed him my freedom and most likely my life. Visiting even that insufferable woman seemed a foolish thing to fuss over. "I'll go."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
We both left the office and walked off the grounds. He went to wherever Hagrid was taking Potter's little brat, and I apparated to the landing outside Strider's door.  
  
I knocked tentatively. No response. I knocked again, a bit louder. Still nothing. I sighed, exasperated. The crazy snot had probably drunk herself to sleep. Well, best check and at least be sure she's still breathing... I opened the door. She hadn't locked it behind her.  
  
Lyria Strider was sitting on the floor in the middle of the living room, dressed in her Auror robes and crying her eyes out with an empty bottle of scotch on the floor next to her.  
  
Oh good Lord. Maybe I ought to have put up a fuss. I'd rather face angry Death Eaters to crying women any day. "Strider?"  
  
She jumped. "What the hell are you doing here?" She slurred at me.  
  
"Dumbledore sent me. Are you... are you alright?"  
  
"Huh? Oh, fine... need another drink, 's all..." She wobbled to her feet.  
  
"No, no, I think you've had quite enough for the evening. I may not like you, but I don't think I hate you enough to let you die of alcohol poisoning either." I told her, helping her steady herself. "Tell me you have a decent cauldron and basic potions supplies around?"  
  
She gestured toward a closet.  
  
I got her seated on the sofa - still sobbing - and quickly brewed something to get her sober. "Drink it."  
  
She complied and shook the alcohol off as if it were a blanket. "I suppose I should thank you for that."  
  
"You won't in the morning. It doesn't get rid of the hangover you're going to have. A bottle of scotch, Strider?"  
  
She began to sob again. "He... he killed them... James and Lily... Peter... my *sister*....."  
  
"Cassi?"  
  
She merely nodded. "My... my fiancé killed half our friends!!"  
  
Only Gryffindors. "What about the other half? Why aren't Lupin and Greenleaf with you?"  
  
"She's not in England, she went to visit her family as soon as she heard," Lyria managed, still crying.  
  
"And Lupin?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
I had dealt with enough suffering myself to know she wasn't to be left alone. Not in her present state... I added one last thing to the still- simmering cauldron which changed the potion entirely. "Here, you'll want another dose of this to finish clearing your head."  
  
She took it unquestioningly, and I noted that it would have been a fine time to poison her if I'd wished. She downed the potion and immediately fell asleep.  
  
Knowing she'd be that way until well into tomorrow afternoon, I lifted her as she was and dumped her on her bed before leaving. I'd done more than my duty for the night.  
  
  
  
It was two days later when two owls arrived in the morning. I snatched the letters and shooed them away - the raven's not terribly fond of owls - and proceeded to read.  
  
The first came from Dumbledore. "Dear Severus, With the retirement of Professor Prewett we are in need of a new Potions Master for next term. I was wondering if you were interested. Please let me know soon, as if you aren't I'll need to do a bit of searching."  
  
A teacher. Me? And Dumbledore hadn't mentioned that Prewett had been head of Slytherin... I'd have to think about that one.  
  
The second letter came from Lyria Strider. "Just wanted to thank you for showing up the other night. You let me rant to someone besides the mirror and helped me preserve the rest of the scotch for another night. Also, you need to spend time outside, because you're rather overly pale. Just in case you didn't already know. And you're teaching me to make that sleeping potion sometime."  
  
I called Corvus (the raven) over to me and hastily wrote out a reply. "You'd do well not to drink all the scotch at once. And you ought to eat regularly, you look anorexic. As for the potion, back of the book we used seventh year. Take out the cup of armadillo bile and you can use it for sobering yourself up next time you get the urge to drink every bit of alcohol in your flat."  
  
Then I replied to Dumbledore that I'd consider the position before going about my normal business.  
  
  
  
I was not expecting a week later to get another letter from Strider. "I'll have you know I eat at least twice daily. Usually three times, but sometimes I'm a bit busy and miss that midday meal. Thanks for the potion directions; I've had to use both pretty regularly. On a side note, what are you doing now that we've graduated?"  
  
It took me a very long time before I decided whether or not to reply. She was clearly in need of a friend, and I didn't really have any desire to be her Replacement Remus Lupin. On the other hand, it might be nice to have someone to talk to... she was a Gryffindor, but Strider was sensible enough. Usually.  
  
I replied a few days later. "Don't use the sleeping potion daily, it's addictive. Don't use the scotch daily either. And you can't afford to be missing meals. I haven't decided for certain what I'm doing yet, though Dumbledore's offered me a place on the teaching staff at the school. How does the Auror's life suit you?"  
  
I found myself actually looking forward to hearing from her. At first, this alarmed me, but then I figured out precisely what was going on. My current existence was a solitary one, and it was nice to have someone to talk to, no matter that she was a Gryffindor and an Auror and an obstinate fool. Corvus wasn't the best company, and she was another person who I could talk to. That was all. Nothing more.  
  
The reply was longer than some of our notes had been. "Thanks for the advice on the sleeping potion. I've replaced it with the scotch, my new midday meal. The Auror's life is rather dull, comparatively. It's become mopping up work. Not terribly exciting. As for the teaching position, you're definitely talented enough at potions, though I don't know how you'd deal with children constantly. It'd be a learning experience, anyway, and you could surprise the entire wizarding world and be good at it. I'm going to assume that'd mean you'd be head of Slytherin too. That would most definitely be a good thing for them-and probably you, too. Go on and take it if you're toying with the idea. I'm in the process of moving, so you may wish to wait a while before you write again. And tell your raven to leave my owl alone the next time he brings a letter."  
  
"Corvus, I thought you had manners," I told the bird. He merely swooped off without a word, as if he didn't wish to humble himself to speak with me if I was associating with Gryffindors. I wrote to Dumbledore this time, accepting the position. It was... strange, to not immediately reply to her letter. I was getting used to her rather left-handed compliments and sharp wit. And it was easier to be civil with her when I wasn't looking at that insufferable smirk.  
  
It turned out I met her face to face before she'd even finished moving.  
  
I had needed a trip to Hogsmeade badly, so I'd finally decided to brave the early spring crowds. I was leaving Dervish and Banges when I ran - quite literally - into a certain Auror.  
  
As she was a good head shorter than me and rather petite, she fell to the ground. "Care to watch where you're going?" she snapped, then looked up to see who she'd run into. "Oh. It's you."  
  
"Yes, it's me," I confirmed, giving her a hand up. "And you were the one running along the street with your head down."  
  
"It's windy. I don't want dust and such blowing into my face."  
  
"You've got a hood," I pointed out.  
  
She glared. "You're a lot more pleasant to deal with over parchment and ink, you know that?"  
  
"So are you. But as we're both here and we haven't talked in a while, why don't we both get out of the wind and go have a drink?"  
  
She looked as surprised as I felt. What the hell had possessed me to say that?!? And what the hell was I going to talk to her about over a drink if she agreed?  
  
She hesitated a moment - perhaps thinking about the same things I had - before she replied. "I think that's a pretty good idea."  
  
We walked down to the Three Broomsticks. I suppose we looked a curious pair, and I was certain the rumors would fly. It didn't bother me, though; I knew she would put them down as fast as I would. Within a few moments, we were sitting at a table in a corner.  
  
There was a slightly awkward silence. "Did you decide on that teaching position yet?" Strider asked, sipping at her drink.  
  
I could have kissed her for breaking the almost tangible silence. If I were fond of kissing snobbish Gryffindors. "Yes, I'm going to take it. Professor Prewett will bring his old lesson notes and such to me at the end of the term, and I'll write up my own plans over the summer holidays."  
  
"You're probably the youngest to ever be on staff."  
  
"Most likely. But it was kind of Dumbledore to think of me for it, and I do owe him a great deal."  
  
She looked genuinely interested. "There's more to you than you care to admit. Forgive me for being nosy, and I certainly can't make you answer, but why exactly do you owe him so much?"  
  
"As you said, you can't make me answer." I replied. "It remains to be seen how long I'll stay."  
  
"You'll be there a while." She said this with absolute certainty. "You might not be the most well-liked teacher there - in fact, I doubt you will be - but you do have plenty to teach."  
  
"Potions is my talent."  
  
"Not about potions, though you've certainly got that gift. About life. The sort of thing they can't learn from a book... if you're willing to teach that."  
  
"I didn't realize you were a philosopher," I snapped.  
  
"I'm not. But I'm a bit more observant than you care to give me credit for," she said off-handedly. "I suppose you'll be a Head of House too?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Hopefully you'll have better luck winning the cup as a teacher than as a student," she said, that insufferable smirk planted firmly on her face.  
  
"I see you haven't grown up any," I said coolly.  
  
"I see you haven't lightened up any," she countered. "It'd do you some good, you know."  
  
"It'd do you some good to stop drinking, but that doesn't mean you're going to."  
  
"Fair enough. While we're on the topic of things that would do us some good, you'd have a lot more friends if you didn't get so damned defensive."  
  
"Friends didn't seem to do you much good."  
  
She grinned. "I suppose the next thing out of your mouth will be that friends are for the lesser sort. Gryffindors and muggle-borns and the other dregs of the wizarding world, right?"  
  
"At least you've finally admitted it." The verbal sparring was actually rather enjoyable, and Strider was a worthy opponent.  
  
She merely laughed.  
  
Strider, despite the length of time I'd known her, was a complete and total mystery to me. I quickly reviewed what I knew of her in my head. The fourth of six children from a family as old as mine, she'd seen her oldest brother die when she was sixteen. A bit of a cynic, with a talent for Potions that had kept most of the Gryffindors afloat, but her real gift was in Defense Against the Dark Arts. She had wanted to be an Auror for as long as I had known her - she'd probably been born with the goal. Despite the cynicism and sarcasm, she was loyal almost to a fault and - at least I judged from her relationship with Black - too trusting. A tomboy, always (she could get just plain violent sometimes), but still very pretty...  
  
Where the hell had *that* come from?!?  
  
I banished that idea back to wherever I'd gotten it from. By now, we'd both finished our drinks. "We'll have to do this again."  
  
"I agree. You're surprisingly good company when you aren't being an obnoxious git."  
  
We parted ways, but I couldn't help but think back to the conversation over the next few days.  
  
About a week later, the grayish owl I'd come to recognize as hers arrived in the early morning. "I've finally finished moving and settled in, and I had a chance to write. I'll have you know I haven't had a drop of scotch since our rather impromptu trip to the Three Broomsticks, though that's more likely because I haven't any in the house than out of any reforms induced by a certain obnoxious git, so don't flatter yourself. Just wondering if you've started making lesson plans and listing modes of punishment yet, and if you have, may I suggest you speak to Filch. I'm sure he's got plenty of ideas for student torture."  
  
I couldn't help but laugh as I wrote out a reply. "I'm not vindictive enough to hang students from the ceiling by their thumbs, unless of course they're Gryffindors. In that case, perhaps I should talk to Filch... in any case, glad to hear you've settled in and haven't drunk yourself to death yet." Then I paused. How to phrase this? And more to the point, did I even want to ask it?  
  
Yes, I did. I wasn't entirely sure why, but I did want to spend more time with Lyria Strider. Maybe it was the genuine interest, maybe it was her cleverness and wit, or maybe it was just a pretty face, but I valued her company. "I was wondering if you were doing anything this weekend, and if not if you'd like to meet up for drinks again." That would suffice. Short, to the point, and not implying that I had any interest in her as anything beyond a friend.  
  
We met Saturday afternoon. It was, sadly, the last Hogsmeade weekend for the students at the school, and so the village was insanely crowded. Lyria, however, was able to secure the same corner table as last time, and a good sneer or two parted crowds of teenagers easily.  
  
"You've been practicing your intimidation techniques, I see," she commented as I returned to the table.  
  
"A useful talent to have. It's nice to see that you have a wardrobe outside of your Auror's robes."  
  
"I'm still not convinced you own anything that isn't black."  
  
"I don't."  
  
That earned me an exasperated sigh. "You're morbid sometimes, you know that? I'm taking you shopping."  
  
"You're masochistic sometimes, you know that? No you aren't."  
  
"Fine then... not this time," she conceded.  
  
"Keep up the threats and there won't *be* a next time," I warned.  
  
"Promises, promises."  
  
We both laughed at that before Lyria continued. "You know my Auror partner had the unmitigated gall to ask me if I was seeing you."  
  
"Excellent word choice. You're starting to sound like me. Why, is he interested?"  
  
We discussed her partner and her Auror work for a while before she yet again brought up the subject of dress. "It's June, you know."  
  
"Apostle of the Obvious, Lyria," I replied. Then I realized I'd called her by her first name... and worse, I'd actually liked how it sounded.  
  
"Well then, Severus," she'd picked up on it and followed suit, "Whyever are you wearing long sleeved black robes with a collar up to your chin?"  
  
"Because I wish to."  
  
"Now you're being difficult on me."  
  
"I'm good at that."  
  
"Yes, yes you are," Lyria sighed. "Alright, you win. I won't bother you over it this time. Been following Quidditch?"  
  
"Not since England lost to Portugal last week. That match was pathetic."  
  
Talk continued over another round of drinks before we parted again, this time deciding to meet again the next week.  
  
"The weekly therapy sessions," she laughed as she apparated away to her home.  
  
I returned to my home as well, musing that she really wasn't too far off.  
  
We continued like this until mid-July.  
  
I came to look forward to talking to Lyria. She was understanding when I needed to rant, and had quite a few good suggestions regarding my lesson plans. More to the point, we could be brutally honest with each other without anyone offending the other. If she arrived looking like shit because she hadn't slept, I told her so. And likewise, she had no qualms about telling me it looked like I hadn't eaten in about a week and forcing me to put down my plan books.  
  
I found, much to my surprise, that I could help her as well, sometimes simply by letting her worry about someone else's problems. If she looked depressed, I made her talk. If she was worried about something, I listened to her rant and then either advised her or just told her she was being stupid. And there was something reassuring to us both about the consistency of our weekly meetings.  
  
One day, Professor Prewett-who had rather been my mentor while I was at school-came to visit and see how my plans were coming along. He almost immediately noticed Lyria's neat writing and notes she'd made when we'd gone over my plans.  
  
"Looks like you've had some help, Severus," he commented. "And from the writing... Miss Strider?"  
  
"Yes. We've become rather good friends." I muttered.  
  
"I've heard. I've also heard rumors that you're a bit closer than good friends." Prewett said in his usual unemotional manner.  
  
"No. We're not. Just looking after each other a bit and such."  
  
"And that's acceptable to you."  
  
"Why wouldn't it be?"  
  
"I've come across you two once or twice down at the Three Broomsticks. You've developed a... certain fondness for her, have you not?"  
  
Damn. He would know... "I suppose I have, sir."  
  
"You might ask her to dinner." Prewett said.  
  
"You mean..."  
  
"I mean date her, Snape. Good Lord, you're a bright enough youngster to figure out what I mean!"  
  
"She's a Gryffindor, sir," I said, as if that explained everything.  
  
"Does that really matter out here in the real world? You're not a student anymore, Snape. Step out of the safety box and wake up."  
  
I wanted to let him know how far out of the box I'd already stepped. I had been a Death Eater; I had been a spy. I'd endangered my life while he sat around and taught sniveling brats to brew potions. I opened my mouth to tell him just what he could do with his advice-  
  
And realized he was right.  
  
We got down to business for about an hour and I realized I'd be late to meet Lyria if I didn't hurry. I left for the Three Broomsticks, still dwelling on his words... "I mean date her, Snape! Step out of the safety box and wake up."  
  
"You're distracted," Lyria said. It wasn't a question.  
  
"As observant as usual."  
  
"What's the matter with you this time?" She asked.  
  
I was silent, and she became concerned.  
  
"Would you please answer the question already, Sev?"  
  
"First, never, ever call me that again. Ever. And I mean it," I warned. "I talked with Prewett a little bit this morning."  
  
"Well that'd be enough to drive anyone half mad, but you always seemed fond of him. What happened?"  
  
His words returned. 'You've developed... a certain fondness for her, have you not?' "Nothing really. Just distracted, I suppose. Thinking."  
  
"I thought I warned you about that," Lyria replied.  
  
I shot her a sardonic glare. "Thank you so much for your never ending support, Lyria. You aren't making it easy for me over here."  
  
"I enjoy making things difficult. And I have no idea what you're prattling about, which means there's no way I could help you out even if I wanted to."  
  
I sighed and then decided to just get it over with instead of dragging things out slowly and painfully. "Do you have plans this evening?"  
  
"Yes, but I don't think my scotch will mind if I cancel. Why?"  
  
"Would you like to go to dinner?"  
  
"Why, Severus Snape, are you asking me on a date?"  
  
"I suppose so."  
  
She smiled a bit. "I'd love to, but my scotch gets jealous if I'm out too late."  
  
The way she teased alleviated my nervousness. "Well you may tell it I promise not to keep you out too long."  
  
I arranged to meet her at her home that evening and we separated.  
  
I noticed almost immediately that she knew how to dress.  
  
She'd pulled her hair up, but it was more elaborate than practical, in a style that never would have worked when she was on duty. She was in blue - of course - but a light shade that complimented the blue-gray eyes instead of her usual dark Auror robes.  
  
"Good evening... why Lyria, you look like a woman." I told her with a slight grin.  
  
"And you'll be pleased to know that you don't," Lyria replied, returning the grin. "Good evening yourself."  
  
Dinner was, despite all the things it could have turned into, fun. Neither of us really noticed the stares and whispers of... well, everyone. (I was practiced at ignoring stares, and Lyria followed my example and didn't deign to pay attention to them.) Conversation was on the usual topics, but lacked the sharpness we often used with each other.  
  
As much as Lyria could be sharp and cynical, she was also quite a lady when she wished to be. It was rather a privilege to see beyond the sharp Auror.  
  
After dinner, we apparated to a spot a short distance from her home and walked the rest of the way.  
  
She turned to face me. "Goodnight, then."  
  
Without a word, I kissed her softly and apparated away before she could say anything.  
  
  
  
The bad part of kissing her and running away was that I had to deal with it later anyway. It also made it very difficult to sleep, because I was left wondering if she'd have kissed back or slapped me across the face had I waited.  
  
Not sleeping, however, gave me plenty of time to think. I wasn't sure when I'd started to consider her more than a friend, or quite what had made me start thinking of her that way. Reflecting, I had to admit that I was in love with her. There was no other way I could describe how I felt for her.  
  
I, a former Death Eater and the new Head of Slytherin House, had fallen for a cynical Gryffindor Auror over a weekly drink. How pathetic.  
  
I half-expected her owl to arrive the next morning with a note (perhaps even a Howler, the woman was quick-tempered). I did not expect, however, the knock at the door.  
  
I knew without answering it that it was her, and that there was a powerful chance I was about to be kicked in the head.  
  
Cautiously, I opened the door.  
  
She kissed me.  
  
When we finally broke apart, I tried to compose myself while Lyria watched me with those blue-gray eyes behind the silver-rimmed glasses. "Would you please stop staring?"  
  
"You're not talking. And I took in the decor in about thirty seconds." She replied.  
  
"You didn't come here to pick up decorating tips. And I don't *think* you came here to snog."  
  
"No, that wasn't quite what I had in mind," she said with a grin. Then she grew serious. "I think we need to talk... about what just happened, and about what happened last night."  
  
"What happened last night: I was a gentleman and kissed you at the door. What just happened: You tried to stick your tongue down my throat."  
  
"You know what I mean," she said. "You're many things, but no one's ever accused you of being stupid."  
  
"Right. Have a seat. Want a drink?"  
  
"No, it's still a little early." She said, flopping onto the sofa.  
  
I shook my head. "Have you got a death wish?"  
  
"Give me a couple years," Lyria replied. There was an awkward pause. "Severus, where is this going?"  
  
"I haven't planned that far ahead yet."  
  
"Where do you want it to go?"  
  
That threw me off. "I... I'm not sure." I paused. "What about you?"  
  
"Would you tell me I was crazy if I said I think I'm falling for you?"  
  
It amazed me how one sentence reassured me. She had the same feelings... and was suffering from the same doubts. "No... I wouldn't say you were crazy."  
  
She looked up at me. "What would you say, then?"  
  
I found myself wondering how this had happened... what I'd done to deserve it. I quickly decided I didn't... and then realized she didn't know. "I'd say I love you... and you need to know what you're getting into."  
  
"I'm pretty sure I can handle it," she said, a grin crossing her face, but I did not smile back. "Severus?"  
  
I sat down next to her. "Did you wonder why Dumbledore sent me to check on you on Halloween?"  
  
"I was too drunk to wonder at the time, and I haven't really thought about it. Why?"  
  
"I..." I had no idea how to tell her. Her reaction could determine everything I'd ever become. "After we graduated, I... was contacted by the Dark Lord. Indirectly, of course... I was hungry for power and eager for change... I joined him." I was more aware of the Dark Mark burned into my skin than I had been since the last time it had burned black. "I did... horrible things. Willingly. Gladly." I paused. Lyria was listening attentively, but didn't look horrified or disgusted. "But... he had me and a few others follow him on one of his killing sprees... and... he tortured a nine-year-old girl to death. I wanted to be sick... after he dismissed us, I went straight to Dumbledore and told him everything I knew. Everything I'd done, everything I'd seen done, all the future plans... He understood. He helped me out of it... and he asked me to stay in the circle and collect information."  
  
"You were the spy." She said quietly.  
  
"Yes. That's how he defended what I'd done to the Ministry. They didn't question it, because the information I brought back was valuable to them."  
  
There was absolute silence. It was almost a tangible thing.  
  
It was a weight off my shoulders not to have to hide it, but my stomach twisted at all the possible reactions she might have. "I needed to tell you... to be honest with you... before we decided anything."  
  
She continued to be silent. I hoped it was merely because it was a lot to take in. "If you don't ever want to look at me again, I'll understand..." I told her.  
  
She got to her feet and kissed me softly. "Listen to me. Yes, you did terrible, sickening things. But you've acknowledged it yourself, you've redeemed yourself. It's no one else's place to judge... and certainly not mine. I love you. That means I accept you completely." The grin crossed her face again. "Past record, crooked nose, and all. I just hope the children don't get stuck with it..."  
  
"The reputation?"  
  
"No, the nose," She replied, trying to make me laugh.  
  
I didn't. "I don't think I'll ever redeem myself for it... it's not going to stop haunting me."  
  
"You're trying. And I'm not going to stop haunting you either. We'll get through it."  
  
My head was spinning. In less than an hour, I'd told her everything and been accepted. She'd said she loved me and gone so far as to mention children... 'We'll get through it.' "Marry me."  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"Marry me." I repeated.  
  
She looked at me as if I'd sprouted another head. "Severus, are you drunk?"  
  
"Don't look at me like that. It seems to me we're in love..."  
  
"The next logical step?" She said.  
  
"Well... if you want to look at it that way..."  
  
Lyria laughed, a delightful sound. "Provided you don't mean on the spot... I'd be delighted."  
  
It was one of those flashbulb memories I couldn't forget if I tried. 


	2. Adjustments

A/N: This one's from Lyria's POV and begins a few years after "Discoveries." This one rather focuses on Lyria's being a part-time single mother... Read "Discoveries" first or you will be confused. Enjoy, and nope, Harry Potter still doesn't belong to me.  
  
Oh, and never fear, Snape and Lyria were returned to their normal state of mutual loathing after the completion of this fic.  
  
I had absolutely no idea how to tell him.  
  
He'd come home for a weekend in September, and though we had decided to try, neither of us were expecting it this soon.  
  
I'd owled him at the school and told him he needed to try to get home for the Christmas holiday. Staff is usually required to stay at the school, especially him as a Head of House, but Dumbledore seemed to understand (or perhaps had deduced for himself why my letter sounded so urgent) and granted him permission with no trouble.  
  
And he'd be home in... fifteen minutes. I'd been counting down and pacing impatiently for most of the day, trying to figure out how to tell him...  
  
He was early. Up the steps to the side door, opening the door...  
  
"What's wrong?" He demanded immediately.  
  
"I'm glad to see you too, Severus. You're right, it will be nice to spend Christmas together," I said sardonically.  
  
"Sorry. But you sounded so urgent in your letter that somehow I think this little break for me isn't just because you're lonely," he replied, kissing me on the forehead. "You look wonderful. I'm glad to be home. Now. What's wrong, Lyria?"  
  
"Well..." I hesitated a moment before just blurting it out. "You're going to be a father come the New Year."  
  
I'd been married to him for two and a half years now, almost three, and it still worried me when he sat out there and stared at nothing. It had made me particularly nervous after we were first married, but I realized he was simply taking time alone to think.  
  
He thinks too much.  
  
On this particular occasion, he was outside thinking and I was inside nearly as lost in thought. You'd think that we'd have taken all the time we could have possibly needed to think over the past nine months, but no, the baby was here and neither of us had quite come to terms with the fact that we were now parents.  
  
And better yet, we still hadn't named our son.  
  
Well, if there was anything that being married to Severus Snape had taught me, it was patience. And admiring one's firstborn isn't exactly a wearisome task.  
  
After I'd followed the ancient, instinctive tradition of counting fingers and toes, I could really look at the little boy. He had dark eyes like his father's and his father's black hair, though it fluffed out the way mine did instead of Severus's straight hair. I was grateful to see he'd inherited my nose. (The child didn't need to be made fun of, and with that thing on his face, it would have been inevitable. I love Severus dearly, but no one's perfect, after all.)  
  
"Does he pass inspection?" I hadn't heard Severus enter the room.  
  
"He's beautiful," I replied, handing him to his father. The baby curled his little hand around Severus's finger and stared up at this new person wide-eyed. "He looks rather like you."  
  
"Then I'm not sure beautiful is exactly the right word." Severus's reply wasn't the first thing on his mind. "He's so... little."  
  
"Well they aren't born full grown you know, and a damn good thing," I told him. "Look, I can see my feet again!"  
  
"Does that mean you won't be guilting me into rubbing them anymore?"  
  
"I don't know; I've grown rather fond of that."  
  
He continued to watch the tiny person he was holding, who blinked and focused on his father's face.  
  
"We still haven't named him," I reminded him.  
  
"Yes. I know. I don't suppose some brilliant name has popped into your mind at the sight of him?" He sighed.  
  
"I don't know... He looks like you, but you refuse to let him be a junior." I smiled. "He's a regular little Slytherin."  
  
"He looks like one..."  
  
"That's it," I said suddenly. "I've named him."  
  
My husband raised an eyebrow and looked at me.  
  
"Salazar."  
  
Severus smiled.  
  
  
  
There was something novel about getting up every fifteen minutes to check on him that night. When he finally cried, we both flew to the nursery to calm him. A diaper change, a bottle, and we were able to rock little Salazar back to sleep.  
  
The next morning, we invited over the grandparents to see their first grandbaby. My mother and mother-in-law were delighted and put up quite the fuss over him.  
  
"I think he's going to be spoiled rotten by the time he's three," Severus told me.  
  
"Most definitely," I replied, taking our son from my mother. "Father? Would you like to hold him?"  
  
Severus's father and I have never been the best of friends. He was rather... upset... when Severus married me, though he's usually civil enough when his son is around. Salazar was another chance at making peace with the old coot...  
  
"I certainly would," he replied, and I brought the baby to him. He held the baby for a moment, and Salazar yawned and began to settle to sleep. "He'll be a fine young man... congratulations, Severus."  
  
The way that man could be so bloody aggravating never ceased to infuriate me, but Severus seemed to be immune. "Thank you, Father," he replied, taking back his now sleeping son and cradling him gently.  
  
Something in the way he held his son made it the most remarkable thing I've ever seen.  
  
The novelty of waking up every hour on the hour wore off quickly.  
  
I groaned as Salazar began crying yet again. "Your turn," I muttered at Severus.  
  
"I went last time," he hissed.  
  
"I gave birth to him."  
  
He got up and staggered to the nursery to tend the baby. He returned half an hour later. "There has to be a charm to make him stop that."  
  
"Stop what?" I muttered.  
  
"Every time I go in there to change him..."  
  
"Oh. Air. That's not uncommon, that usually makes them want to go right then and there." I yawned and looked over at him.  
  
He was already asleep.  
  
Knowing a baby will change your lives and a baby coming and changing your lives are two entirely different things. If you have never been a parent, you will not appreciate what it's like to have a small person that's part of you living in your house.  
  
As if the emotional changes you go through aren't enough, there are very real everyday adjustments that have to be made. Babies cannot be put away and played with later when you feel like it. Parenting isn't a part time hobby; it's a new career.  
  
And it's very, very difficult to balance when both parents have other careers.  
  
I'd taken two years off from my Auror work - we certainly didn't need the money, Severus was harder to replace than I was, and we'd decided we wanted someone to stay home with him. Fortunately he'd been born in the summer, so Severus could be there for a few months before he had to leave for the term.  
  
Lack of sleep, an infant, and two volatile tempers are not a good combination for two months straight.  
  
"*Now* what does he want?" Severus snapped, looking up from his book.  
  
"How the hell should I know? I'm not a mind reader, and he's not going to tell us," I snarled back.  
  
"Well would you shut him up?"  
  
"Why don't *you?* Or did the fact that he's your son too conveniently slip your mind again?!?"  
  
"Slip my- Don't you sit there and snap at me! I'm doing the best I can with him!"  
  
"Seems to me like you're more concerned with your potions than your son!" I barked back.  
  
"Just because I have other duties doesn't give you a right to sit there and make accusations! I love him just as much as you do!"  
  
I couldn't handle it. I absolutely couldn't... I stormed out of the room and into my study and slammed the door behind me. The baby continued to cry.  
  
About an hour later, Severus opened the door carefully. "Am I going to have my head snapped off if I come in here to talk to you?" He asked sardonically.  
  
"Are you going to talk or holler at me again?" I countered sharply.  
  
He winced. "Are you alright?"  
  
"I haven't slept properly in over a month, I'm trying to take care of a baby, and you're being a pain in the ass, but other than that I'm fine." I snapped.  
  
"Sorry about that... I haven't slept properly in a while myself."  
  
I sighed. "And Salazar?"  
  
"Just had a bottle with a bit of sleeping potion. He's down until tomorrow morning." He informed me. "Come on. That gives us a good ten hours before we have to go tend to him."  
  
"Sleep?"  
  
"Yes. Sleep." He offered me a hand.  
  
  
  
"Mommy? Why does Daddy keep going away?" A little voice asked me plaintively. It was September the first, two years later, and Severus had just left for the term. "Doesn't he like us?"  
  
"Of course he does, honey... he has to go away. He lives at the school while he's teaching," I replied. "Salazar, come away from the window please, sweetie."  
  
He stopped pressing his nose against the glass and wandered over to sit by me. "But why?"  
  
"All the teachers do, honey. It's just how things are." I smoothed a bit of short black hair away from his eyes. "Your father loves us both very much, and he'll be back next summer."  
  
"But he doesn't come home for Christmas."  
  
"He can't. Some of the students stay at the school, and he has to be there in case they need him," I replied.  
  
"When *I* go to the school, I'm going to come home for Christmas and not leave you alone," he said decisively, looking like his father.  
  
And there was no doubt he would be going to Hogwarts. Every time he got hold of a wand he proved that. "Well I'd appreciate that, sweetie."  
  
"Won't you be lonely all the time when I go?" He asked in the same little plaintive tone.  
  
"Well I'll certainly miss you both, but once you're safely at school, I'll just spend more time doing my Auror work. That way you won't have to stay with your grandparents while I'm gone."  
  
I had, over the past two years, managed to get used to raising a small child on my own over half the time. Severus doted on his son when he was home and was forever sending home owls and treats for him, but it wasn't the same as another parent in the house all the time. Salazar was an inquisitive, observant child, which was a very good thing but yet made him very difficult to handle. He was forever asking uncomfortable questions and getting into things he shouldn't, most notably his father's potions supplies. (I lost track of the times he'd eaten gillyweed and his delight at finding he could breathe underwater in the tub afterward. Honestly, it was a miracle he'd never eaten anything poisonous.)  
  
Despite everything, it seemed to me that I'd finally gotten the hang of parenting.  
  
June is a horrible time of year to be sick.  
  
Severus had had to come home early, it was so awful. Mundungus Fletcher, a healer who lived nearby, had come to see me (Severus refused to let me out of the house), but I continued to be sick every morning. I just felt... different, as if my body had decided to make internal changes and forgotten to let me know.  
  
Salazar would peer around the corner into our bedroom, dark eyes wide with worry over me, every morning. Once or twice I'd heard him asking Severus when Mommy was going to feel better.  
  
"Owl for you," Severus told me as he helped me to my feet and out of the bathroom after my latest bout of vomiting. "I think it's Fletcher."  
  
"And you didn't open it right away? I'm impressed."  
  
"They're your medical concerns... I didn't think it was appropriate."  
  
"Your high moral standards continue to amaze me," I snapped, feeling miserable. "You mean to say you're afraid to open it yourself."  
  
He shot me a sharp look. "You'll have to forgive me if I don't want to have to tell my wife I opened her mail and found out she's dying!" He stalked off.  
  
Salazar, who had been watching, burst into tears.  
  
Severus sighed exasperatedly and rushed to calm him. "Oh, Salazar, it's alright, Daddy's just being an idiot... come on... shh..."  
  
"Oh, well done," I snapped at him as he escorted Salazar into the other room, the child still in tears.  
  
He shot me a final glare before putting Salazar to bed and then coming back down stairs, looking calmer. "Did you open that thing yet?"  
  
"No, I was just about to," I replied as he walked down the hall to his study.  
  
The owl was perched on the back of a chair, looking impatient. "I'm coming, I'm coming," I snapped at it, taking the letter. It flew off in a huff.  
  
I read the letter.  
  
Dear Lyria,  
  
I've run the appropriate tests, and I seem to have discovered the source of your morning vomiting sessions.  
  
Whether you and Severus are trying or trying to prevent just such an instance, it seems congratulations are in order...  
  
I stopped reading. "SEVERUS!! You're a dead man!!" 


	3. Reactions

A/N: The evil, evil result of a sleepover, and begun at 1:47 AM. A bit of AU fun... Oh, right, and Harry Potter's not mine.  
  
~*~Snape~*~  
  
The house is relatively quiet. Must be because it's the end of summer; they know I'm leaving again soon. It's peaceful, really. The children are playing, and she's most likely making dinner.  
  
No one ever expected the two of us to get married, least of all either of us. Our fond memories of Hogwarts include her turning my hair pink (several times, actually) and my insulting her family ever chance I got. But reality hit us both hard, and we found we had more in common than either of us cared to admit.  
  
She'd lost her friends, her fiancé, and a part of her family to the war. Black had killed three of those friends, one fled to Scotland, and the last simply vanished, leaving no trace he'd ever existed. I remember running into her, after it was supposed to be over. She was different; broken.  
  
And so was I.  
  
Granted, the circumstances were different. Her tragedies had been just that, tragedies, while I'd brought mine on myself. In the end, I'd seen exactly what I was part of and managed to free myself of that enigmatic influence. But the aftermath of such things bring people together, sometimes those you'd least expect.  
  
She was a Gryffindor; I was a Slytherin. She had fought as an Auror; I had been a Death Eater and a rather last-minute spy. She was all things bright and good, the hope of the war, and I represented all the darkness that had caused the war in the first place.  
  
But we understood each other.  
  
I suppose I could stand here and laugh, if I wished. I'd finally won. Potter dead, Lupin vanished, and Black in Azkaban, and I was a hero and a pillar of society, married to a marvelous young woman and raising a model family. Strange, it doesn't seem as important now as it used to. I suppose marriage and parenting and all the things that come with growing up and getting over it affect one's way of thinking.  
  
"Going to sit out here all evening and stare into space, or are you coming in for dinner, Severus?" She asks, having stepped outside to find me. I hadn't even heard her approach.  
  
"I'll be in in a moment, Lyria."  
  
  
  
~*~Lyria~*~  
  
He's staring off at nothing again. It used to worry me. I don't know if I thought he was dwelling on past mistakes, or sometimes I just thought he was going mad. Sometimes I still think he's slightly mad. Correction: sometimes I think it, and sometimes he is. Then again, he has the right to say the same about me.  
  
Of course, there was a time when we simply considered each other mental and fired insults like bullets at every opportunity. (Alright, so I found he made for very good practice with hexes. We all need a target, don't we?) I don't pretend to be perfect, but I was sure I was better than him, at least. I mean, I washed my hair and wasn't being recruited by the local Dark Arts experts.  
  
If I'd grown up how he did, I think I'd have seen things differently.  
  
Oops, better not let dinner burn. It's the last one at home for a while, though things are a bit different this year. Salazar is in his first year, and Severus and I are both on staff. It's gotten difficult to find a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, with them usually lasting less than a year. This, of course, means the entire family will be at Hogwarts for the term, but at least he's not just leaving for once. I miss him when he goes, as much as about 15 years ago I'd have rather died than admit it.  
  
Jessilyn comes flying down the stairs. "Mum, Zecharas and Salazar are making fun of me again," she complained.  
  
"Well, a good jelly-legs jinx ought to shut them up," I tell her, continuing to make dinner.  
  
She grins and runs back up the stairs. Rather like me, that one. Poor Salazar.  
  
Better not let my husband stand around outside all night. He probably wouldn't even notice that it's getting dark, he hasn't eaten, or anything short of the house catching fire. I go outside to find him.  
  
"Going to sit out here all evening and stare into space, or are you coming in for dinner, Severus?" I ask him, fairly sure he didn't even hear me approach.  
  
If he's surprised, he doesn't show it. Well then, things are as usual. "I'll be in in a moment, Lyria."  
  
~*~Lyndell~*~  
  
When I walk in, I find a familiar and unpleasant face already seated at the table. "Oh, it's you."  
  
"Finally done running away to Scotland because you can't handle reality, Lyndell Greenleaf?" Comes the ever-insulting reply. Nice to know some things don't change.  
  
I sit down, Sirius (in dog form, of course) sitting at my feet.  
  
"Is that *thing* really necessary?" Severus Snape demands, looking distastefully at the dog.  
  
"Yes. He makes me feel safe around creatures like *you.*" I reply casually. If Sirius were in his human form, he'd laugh.  
  
"You'd know all about creatures, seeing as you *are* one, elf. And what about that old flame of yours? Gets a bit more hair than usual once a lunar cycle, doesn't he?" Snape replies coolly. It really takes an effort to aggravate that man.  
  
I'm about to fire back something equally insulting when my old friend enters the room. "Lyria!"  
  
"Hey, Dell," she replies with her ever-bright smile. But something's different about her, I can tell that much right away.  
  
Lyria pulls a chair close to Snape and sits, kissing him on the cheek as she does so. In the meantime, I've noticed the ring on her finger. I may be blonde, but I'm not stupid.  
  
But... they can't be *married!!* It's just not possible! They hated each other at school at least as much as James and Snape had... Lyria's too normal to marry someone like him.  
  
A dark-haired boy of about eleven pokes his head around the corner. His hair and eyes immediately remind me of Snape, but he bears a resemblance to Lyri that you'd have to be blind to miss.  
  
He leaves as soon as he sees who's in the room.  
  
"Is... is he yours?" I ask Lyria. She smiles proudly and nods. "And... and..." I can't bring myself to say his name, so I merely point, trying desperately to hold Sirius back. I'm starting to think I'm going to have to stun him.  
  
"Yes, he's our oldest," Lyria replies, as if she's used to the strange faces and disgusted looks.  
  
Oldest implies more. Married, then... and KIDS?!? If you'd told her that last time I'd spoken with her, she'd have laughed in your face before breaking your nose. 'Note to self: Stay in contact with friends!! You never know when they'll do something crazy!' I'm still trying to hold Sirius back. He's growling viciously at Snape.  
  
Fortunately, Dumbledore enters then, and the meeting starts. No time to ask questions I don't want to hear the answers to.  
  
~*~Sirius~*~  
  
Even though she wouldn't know it was me, I'd been looking forward to seeing Lyria again since Dumbledore agreed to let Dell keep me as a pet of sorts so I could be at the school. We'd been engaged, and giant sap that I am, I was most definitely still in love with her. Had she changed?  
  
Well, that was a stupid question, of course she had. But I wanted to know how, to see for myself that she hadn't lived the past years in as much pain as the rest of us had. I had the stupidity to hope that despite losing everything, she could still be happy.  
  
Turns out I hit it pretty close.  
  
I wasn't pleased to see Snape again, but that could be overlooked for Lyria's sake. I just ignored the conversation and kept my eyes on the door.  
  
I noticed the ring the second she entered. She'd moved on, then. Forgotten about me and made her own happiness. Well, of course she had, she was too independent and strong-willed to sit around and feel sorry for herself. It hurt, but so long as she was happy, I could accept that she was married.  
  
Oh, who was I kidding?  
  
She was married. Lyria was married. The thought made me want to be sick- preferably all over Snape's boots.  
  
Then she sat down next to him and kissed him softly.  
  
No. Oh, no.  
  
That just wasn't right.  
  
Not only was she married, she was married to him. Beautiful, charming, clever Lyria Strider had married the tall, dark, and greasy Severus Snape.  
  
Sick. And wrong. And disgusting.  
  
I'd been replaced by SNAPE?!?  
  
What sort of a twisted world did we live in?  
  
Dumbledore started the meeting, but I couldn't focus. I just put my head down and tried to forget about it.  
  
~*~Remus~*~  
  
I'd been sitting in the corner, trying not to draw attention, but taking in the whole scene. And I had the irrepressible need to vomit.  
  
Lyria had married Snape? The same Snape that had tried so hard to make my time at Hogwarts (and hers!) miserable? The same Snape that had less than two years ago made it public knowledge that I was a werewolf?  
  
And that boy had to be eleven. They'd been married even then, which told me he hadn't had a miraculous change of heart that made her fall for him.  
  
And Lyria was my cousin! I was *related* to that monster! And he sat there insulting me when she wasn't in the room.  
  
Mind, I suppose I shouldn't be calling anyone a monster, but I'm humane 28 days more of the lunar cycle than he is.  
  
The second the meeting was over, I pulled Dell and Sirius aside with the excuse of "catching up." Lyria merely smiled and said that she could find Dell later, she had to make sure the kids were settled in.  
  
More than one, then. Oh, ew. Whether ew simply that they'd... done that, or that she'd *wanted* him to... or... just... best not think about it. Wouldn't want to get sick all over the place.  
  
"I didn't know either," I replied to Dell's accusatory look.  
  
Sirius had transformed back and was sitting on the floor, rocking back and forth with his head in his hands.  
  
"Would you stop that? It's annoying as hell," I snapped at him, rather atypically.  
  
"But... they're married."  
  
"We've established that, Sirius," Dell told him.  
  
"But... they're *married!!*"  
  
"And they've got kids. Chew on that one for a while." I replied.  
  
Sirius turned slightly green.  
  
"Yes, I know, it's sick," I said. "Now, you go let me talk to Dell, and I'll go get you a dreamless sleep potion later so you don't have dreams about it."  
  
"Nightmares, you mean. The only good ones would be biting his... better not say it, there's ladies around." He smirked - ever the cheerful one no matter what the circumstance - and wandered off in dog form.  
  
"Don't attack him, she *knows* what you are!" I called out, hoping he'd heard me and wouldn't be too impulsive.  
  
"Better hope no one else heard you talking to my dog," Dell told me with a grin.  
  
"Right..."  
  
"Who'd have guessed? I'd have paired Lyria with Malfoy first," Dell sighed.  
  
"I'd have paired Snape with Malfoy before that," I pointed out.  
  
She laughed. "You're starting to sound like Sirius."  
  
"I'm starting to feel like Sirius. I'd love nothing more than to just chase him down next full moon, but I don't think Lyria'd appreciate that."  
  
"Probably not." Dell paused. "She really seemed... well, happy with him. As twisted a thought as that is. Proud of the kids, comfortable with him. And at least he wasn't quite as awful around her. Maybe we can reform him yet?"  
  
"And maybe tomorrow I'll wake up with wings and a furry tail," I countered. She raised an eyebrow. "Okay, so forget the furry tail, I suppose that's possible."  
  
She laughed.  
  
I was struck with a sudden crazy urge. "Well, if they've made a marriage work - somehow - then we should at least be able to make a drink at the Three Broomsticks a success."  
  
"I think I'll take you up on that, Remus Lupin. I could use a drink right about now."  
  
I nodded my agreement. "Or seventeen."  
  
With laughs - but also knowing that I probably wasn't too far off - we left.  
  
~*~Dumbledore~*~  
  
I was as surprised as the rest of the wizarding world almost thirteen years ago when Severus came to me and announced that he planned to marry Lyria.  
  
Well, perhaps not quite as surprised. And I suppose my reaction differed from most of the ones they received.  
  
"Splendid!" I told him.  
  
He couldn't have looked more delighted. "I just asked her... I'm still not completely sure I won't wake up and find it was a dream in a minute."  
  
I'd always thought it was curious that they'd despised each other so desperately at Hogwarts; they really did have a great deal in common. I assumed then that it was just the petty Gryffindor/Slytherin feud.  
  
Such opposites, but so very much alike. More so than either of them would ever admit. Enough that I can recall a time they'd both cringe at the thought.  
  
Thirteen years later, I monitored the reactions of those around me.  
  
Sirius, naturally, was furious. Well, they had been engaged, and as he was innocent, he was most likely entitled to be furious. Lyndell was suprised, a bit distraught, but I didn't think she was too upset with her old friend.  
  
The fury and rage and betrayal I could nearly feel coming off Remus alarmed me. I took a moment to look at things from his angle and could easily see why. His family, for Lyria *was* his cousin, married to the one who'd made his lycanthropy common knowledge, well yes, that would be distressing. But such anger from usually so calm a man...  
  
Best get this meeting over with so Severus and Lyria could recoup before their next public appearance.  
  
It looked like they'd need all the strength and energy they could muster to defend themselves from old friends.  
  
  
  
~*~Snape~*~  
  
"Well... that could have gone worse," Lyria sighed, flopping onto the bed in the room we'd be sharing.  
  
"It could have gone better," I countered. "I half expected to be eaten alive in there... but all your elven friend could manage to do was sit and point." I smirked. "And... and..." I stuttered in perfect imitation.  
  
Lyria surpressed a laugh. "Now, that isn't nice. Would you like the children to hear you doing that?"  
  
"They'd likely find it most amusing."  
  
"Probably." Lyria paused. "At least Remus didn't make a big deal. In public, anyway."  
  
I could care less what Lupin - or anyone else, for that matter - thinks about us, but it'd be best not to insult them in front of her. "None of them ought to have made a show over it. They *are* your friends, after all."  
  
"For now," she sighed.  
  
"Well then you'll be like me. Neither of us will have any friends and we'll be able to do whatever we want without having to be conscious of pissing people off." I told her.  
  
"Since when has having friends helped me stop pissing people off?" Lyri countered. "You know, no one would believe it was really you if they were to hear us talking."  
  
There are very few people around which I am 'really me.' Lyria knows it, and Lyria knows why. "Consider yourself fortunate, then."  
  
"Honored." She smiled at me.  
  
~*~Lyndell~*~  
  
When Remus and I returned, we found Sirius sitting on the floor with a contented smile on his face. "Are you quite calm now?"  
  
"Yeah, I think I've figured it out." Sirius told us. "See, the sex must be wonderful, because he's such a nasty slimy git..."  
  
Remus turned a bit green. "You mean to tell me you've been sitting here for an hour and a half thinking about what sex with Snape must be like?"  
  
Sirius yelped. "Okay, I had it all figured out in my mind, and then you say something like that, and eww.... What did you do that for??" He cried.  
  
I didn't really want to hear more about the whole mess. "Oh, don't pay any attention to me, I'll just go chew on a bone or something," I sighed.  
  
Sirius gave me a smirk. "Don't you need Remus for that?"  
  
I smirked back. "I suppose I do... just like Lyria needs Severus..."  
  
"AAAAH!" Sirius bolted for the bathroom. I peered in a moment later and found him sitting on the floor, head in his hands, rocking back and forth. He leaned over to get sick in the toilet.  
  
"Better not drink toilet water now," I said with a grin. Then I turned to Remus. "Come on, he'll be like that for hours," I told him, dragging him into the bedroom and closing the door.  
  
"You're scary sometimes. Brilliant, and clever, but scary." He told me.  
  
"Well you live with him as a pet for the summer and see what it does to you," I countered.  
  
Remus laughed. "There's just one problem with how you got rid of our little friend there."  
  
"What's that?" I asked.  
  
He shuddered. "Now *I* have to think about it..."  
  
I laughed.  
  
~*~Lyria~*~  
  
I never thought he was cute when he slept until after Salazar was born. Then I noticed how they both curled up the same way, and all of a sudden I didn't mind watching my husband snooze as I clutched my morning cup of tea like a lifeline. This morning, however, I wasn't content to let him sleep through breakfast. There was no way I was going downstairs alone.  
  
I shook him gently. "Hey you, rise and shine."  
  
He growled and rolled over.  
  
"Please? I made tea."  
  
Silence.  
  
I grabbed the pillow and whacked him over the head. "Get. Up."  
  
If he'd even noticed I'd taken his pillow, he didn't react. At all. Pity I couldn't get the kids to sleep like that... "Severus Snape, if you don't get up and out of bed right now, I'm going to go downstairs and paint your classroom pink."  
  
*That* got him out of bed. "You wouldn't!"  
  
I smiled innocently.  
  
"Yes, you would." He sighed and got up. "Now, why is it so urgent that I wake up at this ungodly hour?"  
  
"It's 7:30, that's not early." I told him.  
  
"We'll be here until lunch if we start arguing over 'early' again," he reminded me.  
  
"Point conceded. If there aren't 4 numbers in the time, you don't want to be awake."  
  
"Exactly. Now, did I hear you say correctly that you made tea?"  
  
We finished the pot, neither of us really eager to go downstairs and be gawked at again, before I sighed. "Guess we should go downstairs."  
  
"You know how to get into the kitchens. I'm not terribly fond of the company downstairs."  
  
"You're not terribly fond of anyone besides me and the children," I countered. "Least of all Gryffindors."  
  
"Well, there are two or three I don't mind, but one I'm not too sure about," he told me with a slight grin. "At least that idiot Black isn't around..."  
  
I laughed a bit. Married or not, there are some things we aren't at liberty to tell each other, and that pet of Lyndell's is no more a dog than I am. "That'd just be the perfect ending to a perfect day as far as you're concerned, wouldn't it?"  
  
"Or else one nightmare of a start. We'd better go, I wouldn't put it past Dumbledore to send someone up here if we don't."  
  
"And we couldn't have people seeing that you actually act human sometimes. Come on."  
  
We walked down to the Great Hall companionably (the original Odd Couple, I suppose), but not hanging all over each other. Not only does it make people nervous, but, well... we just don't hang all over each other in public. I'm no more likely to walk around like a giggly twit than Severus is to be seen walking with some giggly twit. (Except perhaps Jessilyn, and seven-year-olds don't count.)  
  
Dumbledore greeted us politely enough, though Remus still looked like he wanted to be sick at the sight of us together. Well, he'd just have to get over it. Lyndell smiled, but still looked as if she was thinking this was slightly awkward.  
  
Well, we didn't expect it to be any easier at the school than it had been anywhere else. Sometimes I wonder if we'd have made it together if it hadn't been for all the people trying to separate us.  
  
"Looks like your friend's dog still isn't pleased to see me," Severus told me quietly. Yes, Sirius was still sitting at Lyndell's feet, being held back firmly. Maybe he'd have been better posing as Remus' pet.  
  
The nerve of him. He was the one that went and got himself arrested, and now he's pissed I didn't rot for thirteen years waiting for him to do the impossible like the heroine of some cheap Muggle romance book? I kicked the dog on my way to my seat.  
  
A yelp, and a sad look.  
  
Well... that *was* mean of me. My husband's public face must be rubbing off.  
  
Apparently he was thinking the same, because he gave me a rare smile.  
  
Breakfast was filled with rather forced politeness.  
  
Toward the end, Dell turned to me. "Can I pinch you alone for a minute before you go?"  
  
I was pretty sure I knew what *this* was all about. "Of course. Severus can run downstairs and make sure his classroom isn't pink," I turned around and gave him a grin.  
  
He raised an eyebrow but was silent.  
  
Sometimes it's very, very aggravating that he never gets ruffled in public.  
  
~*~Remus~*~  
  
"Well... um... how have you been, Lyri?" Dell asked, looking rather awkward.  
  
Lyria, in her usual fashion, got to the point. "This isn't a social thing. You just want to play 20 Questions over my choice of husband."  
  
"It was rather a shock," I told her sharply. "You know, finding out you're related to someone who practically ruined your life."  
  
"Well, he managed to pull the tiny little shattered bits of mine back together." Lyria fixed us each with a stony expression.  
  
There was an awkward silence. Okay, so she did have a point; we'd all fled when she'd needed us most... but... SNAPE?!?  
  
Sirius sat on the floor, whining.  
  
"Would you get into your normal form and stop that? I didn't kick you that hard," Lyria snapped.  
  
He transformed back and fixed her with a look. "I loved you, Lyria."  
  
"This isn't about us being in love or not. This is about me growing up and getting over it and none of my supposed friends being able to suck it up and accept that!"  
  
I winced. Yes, there was a reason I'd learned not to mess with Cousin Lyri. She always did have a way of twisting your concerns around and making them bite you in the ass. "Are you happy, Lyri?"  
  
"Am I stupid enough to stay with him if I wasn't?" She countered. "Listen, all three of you. I married him because I love him, because we understand each other, because we get along. Because we managed to help each other pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps out of the shit that the war - and all of you - left behind. Deal with it, or leave us alone."  
  
Ouch. Again. Twice within about three minutes, she certainly hadn't lost her touch. It was painful to admit, but she was right.  
  
Damnit, she was always right when you least wanted her to be.  
  
"Well, if he's treating you well and you're happy with him... I can accept that." Dell said, giving her friend a hug. She gave Sirius a look.  
  
"I can't pretend I like it. At all. But I'd rather be your friend than just someone who happens to live in the same castle as you. I can try." It looked like it physically hurt Sirius to say it.  
  
"Hate to sound like a broken record, but you're on the same side now. You two have to get over it," Lyria told him gently.  
  
Sirius sighed and resumed dog form, curling up in the corner.  
  
Lyria turned to face me.  
  
"No."  
  
"Excuse me?" Lyria sounded surprised, and more than a little hurt.  
  
"Maybe you've managed to miss it, Lyria, but you married a Class 1 Asshole," I informed her.  
  
She rolled her eyes like she'd heard this a thousand times before.  
  
"Don't you roll your eyes at me. Now, you listen. I have a right to be concerned that my cousin married a manipulative bastard! He knows nearly as much about the Dark Arts as Malfoy, he was a Death Eater..."  
  
"He was there when the rest of you ran off. Now, *you* listen. When you went and ran off because you couldn't handle things and left me behind to deal with all the shit of the past six months, you weren't thinking about me, so don't you dare sit there and tell me that you've got my best interests at heart. I'm not going to ruin my marriage because you've got problems!"  
  
"He announced to everyone what I am! That's not easy to forgive, Lyria!"  
  
"It's not easy to forgive when your cousin leaves you at the time you need him most, either." She told me flatly, stalking out of the room.  
  
That hadn't quite gone as planned. Sirius resumed human form. "I hope I never get near a dementor again... I know what I'll hear..."  
  
"What's that?" Dell asked.  
  
"'I married him because I love him...'" He looked up sadly.  
  
~*~Snape~*~  
  
I watched her storm from the room and was divided over what to do. It wasn't my fault, which meant it should be safe to try and follow her to see if I could help, but on the other hand, if she was that furious, I was likely to be retiring under the same circumstances as Kettleburn had.  
  
Had that ever stopped me before?  
  
I walked after her, grateful she was comparatively short and I could catch up without running. "Lyria?"  
  
"Oh, it's you," she sighed.  
  
"Now that's not terribly welcoming, what's wrong?" I asked. She looked at me sadly. "If those idiots said anything to offend you, I'll go in there right now and..."  
  
"No, don't. He'll either get over it or he's not worth it," she said, watering up.  
  
I gave her a hug. If she was on the verge of tears, it was something serious, because in all the time I'd known her, I'd seen her cry twice. Once when her brother died, and the second time when she nearly lost the baby. "Come over here and sit, and tell me what's the matter." I tried to sound stern, but it's a difficult task in the face of a crying Lyri.  
  
"It's Remus. He's being such an idiot!"  
  
I wanted to say that it was really nothing new but stopped myself in time. "Any reason in particular?"  
  
"He's trying to pretend he's concerned for me now when he went and left when I needed him to be concerned."  
  
"Maybe your elven friend could beat some sense into him?" I suggested. "I mean that quite literally, you know. He can't kill her, so she could probably conk him with some furniture at least..."  
  
She laughed. It's a rather remarkable feeling to hear her laugh when she's about to cry and know you're the one responsible for the laughter.  
  
"He'll get used to it. Don't let it worry you," I instructed her. "Come on, we'll go downstairs and you can turn my hair pink just for old time's sake."  
  
That earned another laugh, and I helped her to her feet and wrapped an arm around her reassuringly.  
  
Lupin rounded the corner, looking murderous, and we were the first thing he saw. I kept one hand ready to draw my wand - it was too close to the full moon to trust that he'll be logical.  
  
Fortunately, he was, and he merely stormed off past us, followed by that giant dog of Lyndell's.  
  
Then I realized I'd called her Lyndell, not Greenleaf or elf or anything else insulting. Well, Lyria would probably be spending plenty of time with her, better get used to it.  
  
~*~Lyria~*~  
  
Severus managed to calm me down, and before long Dell was looking for me.  
  
"Come on, time for tea and talking," she called out, taking my arm and tugging.  
  
I kissed Severus softly and followed her out and up to her office.  
  
Conversation stayed on safe topics for a while; Quidditch, dress robes, girl things I haven't thought about since before I left Hogwarts.  
  
Eventually conversation turned a bit, and I found myself telling her about Salazar, Jessilyn, and Zecharas, how fast they've grown and how proud we are of them.  
  
"How did you two wind up together anyway?" Dell asks.  
  
That story brings about a fair share of memories.  
  
Halloween night, 1981 (though it was likely November 1st before any of this happened) found me in desperate tears on the floor in my little flat. Dumbledore sent Severus to bring me back to the school, and it was quite the scene Severus walked in on.  
  
"Strider?"  
  
"Go away. I don't need to be mocked." I snapped viciously, wanting nothing more than to be left alone.  
  
But he didn't leave me alone.  
  
It started off as friendly acquaintances. Certainly, there was nothing wrong with general concern ("Strider, have you slept? You look like shit." "You're no peach either, have you eaten today?"), but things had simply... progressed. Summer found him asking me to dinner. Always a gentleman, pulling out chairs, getting doors and the like.  
  
The first time he kissed me at the door, it took me by surprise. He later told me it frightened him; I hadn't reacted at all. Mind, I hadn't had much time to, for the second he broke the kiss he'd Apparated away.  
  
The surprising part of it all, of course, was that we'd both enjoyed ourselves. And things had continued from there. Much to the delight of us both.  
  
~*~Lyndell~*~  
  
The idea of Snape involved in some old-fashioned romance was strange, but clearly there was something more to him if Lyria had married him.  
  
"You aren't angry with me, Dell?" Lyri asked.  
  
"No, not angry, but a little hurt... why didn't you ever tell me you were getting married?"  
  
"We didn't want to make a big deal of it. You saw how welcome we were in there, and you nearly died of heart failure at the thought of us together. We just didn't want to be facing a chapel full of furious people who didn't want to be there." She said.  
  
"It was still your wedding, and I still would have liked to be there. Your parents knew, of course?"  
  
"Of course. The entire list of guests consisted of my family and his."  
  
"Now *there's* a mother-in-law for you, Lyri," I said with a grin.  
  
She laughed at that. "She's really quite a nice lady. His father's a bit of a conceited git, but I can usually counter everything he throws at me before Severus tells him to shut up."  
  
I couldn't picture Severus Snape telling his father to shut up. Well, wait, yes I could. "What do your parents think of him?"  
  
"Well, my mother was always fond of Sirius, but she doesn't dislike Severus. Dad's grown rather fond of him, though." Lyria smiled a bit at that. "And they both adore their grandkids, of course."  
  
"That's no surprise." It was a fact; they were happily married with a nice little family. I had to stop trying to deny it. "Do I get to meet these kids of yours?"  
  
"You'll have Salazar in class. Could be a bit of fun, depending on where he's sorted, hmm?" Lyria chuckled a bit. "Salazar Snape in Gryffindor. but I don't see it. He'll be a Slytherin like his father, and Jess'll be the resident Gryffindor."  
  
"What about your youngest?" I asked.  
  
"Zecharas? Who knows. I still say Ravenclaw, he's too quiet to fit anywhere else, but we've got a good six years to wait yet." Lyria glanced at her watch. "We should go downstairs, the train'll be arriving before long and I rather have to be at the sorting. What are you teaching, anyway?"  
  
"Arithmancy. Remus has Charms, because Flitwick's gone."  
  
"Right, choked on a cherry over the summer, didn't he? Severus told me."  
  
"I think so." We went down to the Great Hall. I took my seat at one end of the table, and Lyria went to sit in her own chair, nearly at the opposite end.  
  
~*~Salazar~*~  
  
I really had no idea why everyone was acting so stupid around my parents. Honestly, didn't they get the whole concept of a married couple? Dad had told me that some people wouldn't be overly pleased, but it was just plain ridiculous. Hopefully the people my age would be more sensible than that!  
  
Of course, not coming in on the train didn't help me meet people, but I was confident I'd be able to make up for it fast enough. I met up with the rest of my class in the hall where the first years waited to be Sorted. They looked so nervous! Well, I *did* know what was coming. (Dad had told me; Mum got mad at him, traditionally I shouldn't have known, but Dad said he didn't want me pestering him to help me get ready for it when all I had to do was try on a hat.)  
  
We entered the hall. Everyone around me was gaping at their surroundings; I was glad I'd already seen the place last night. It just wasn't dignified to be walking around with one's jaw hanging down and eyes popping out of one's head. The Sorting began, and I didn't pay much attention until my name was called.  
  
"Snape, Salazar."  
  
I really *did* want to get this over with. Badly. I sat on the stool and Professor McGonagall placed the hat on my head.  
  
"Hmm. curious. A Snape and a Strider. where should you go?"  
  
//Hufflepuff is out of the question, then?//  
  
"No, you certainly wouldn't fit there."  
  
I breathed an inward sigh of relief.  
  
"Ravenclaw, perhaps? You've the mind for it. but there's more to you than that. Brave, yes, certainly. but much like your father was at your age."  
  
//Umm. is that a good thing or a bad thing?//  
  
"Well, that remains to be seen, but one thing is clear. SLYTHERIN!" The hat called out.  
  
With that, I got off the stool and went to join the rest of my house. I glanced up at the head table; Dad looked proud, and Mum had a rather knowing look on her face. Most of the staff seemed pretty unsurprised. The brown-haired man who was the new Charms teacher, however, had cast a look of disgust at me as if I was some sort of particularly horrid piece of scum on the floor. It was not a comfortable feeling.  
  
The Sorting was over, and the headmaster rose. "It is my pleasure to inform you of a few changes to our staff. Professor Greenleaf will be teaching Arithmancy," he gestured to a blonde woman. "Some of you may remember Professor Lupin, who has agreed to return and teach Charms due to the untimely loss of Professor Flitwick."  
  
The Gryffindors were ecstatic, but other than them the applause was scattered. Not a single Slytherin was applauding, and neither was I. If he was going to treat me like pond scum, he'd get the same treatment back.  
  
"And I am delighted to introduce you to Professor Lyria Snape - who has agreed to be called Professor Strider for simplicity's sake - who will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."  
  
There was a mixed reaction, mostly polite applause. Most of the Slytherins looked pleased, the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs seemed to have reserved judgement. The Gryffindors, however, seemed to look like they'd been informed of their own funerals. Mum *was* a Gryffindor. how odd.  
  
~*~Lyria~*~  
  
"Your house is more pleased to see me than mine," I told Severus.  
  
"That married name is going to cause you nothing but trouble, my dear. To the Gryffindors, you're a traitor, to the Slytherins, you're an infidel."  
  
"That's reassuring," I sighed. "What about the other houses?"  
  
"You'll have to see for yourself. I can't predict that. You didn't happen to hear who the new head of Hufflepuff is, did you?"  
  
"No idea, but I doubt it's Remus Lupin. Maybe Madam Hooch? She was in Hufflepuff," I suggested.  
  
"Must be her, then." He paused. "Don't worry about them. If they pay attention to you and not your name, you'll be fine."  
  
"But they won't."  
  
He gave me an almost sad look. "I know." 


	4. Acceptance

~*~ Remus ~*~  
  
I still refused to believe that this was happening. It was just one hell of a nightmare, and any time now I'd wake up and Lyria would be sneaking off with Sirius like they used to do at school.  
  
Of course then I'd look over at Lyria and that... well, Snape, and they would sit there perfectly delighted to be together.  
  
I spent most of the start-of-term trying very, very hard not to a) vomit, or b) kill Snape. Both were rather difficult.  
  
Dell helped. She was someone I could rant at when necessary, and spending time with her kept me from dwelling on it. Whether that was due to her elvish magic or her natural charm I never deigned to ask.  
  
I got used to the pair of them, yes. But that did not mean I was going to approve.  
  
~*~ Lyria ~*~  
  
My first class was a disaster.  
  
Fifth-year Gryffindors, it seemed, were not fond of Mrs. Snape.  
  
"Now, I've heard from your former teachers what you've already studied. We've a lot of ground to cover before your O.W.L.s..."  
  
"Why isn't Professor Lupin teaching this class?" A student asked irritably.  
  
I sighed. "Because I am an Auror and therefore more qualified, and because he has quite a talent for Charms. Now..."  
  
"You can't be an Auror! Look at you!" A red-haired boy commented.  
  
"Shut. Up. Now. Please." I snapped at them. This was *my* house... why were they being so insolent?  
  
"Professor Lupin ought to be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts..." "An Auror, and married to Snape? That's rich..." "Bet she's useless." "How many points do you reckon we'll lose per class?" "Just like her husband!" The mutterings filled the room.  
  
Of course. He'd warned me after all... "I will have you all know I was a Gryffindor myself, and I have no intentions of favoring *any* house."  
  
"Sure, I bet he doesn't think he favors his house either..." The same red- head muttered. I had an urge to hex him, but then remembered I was the teacher.  
  
"Whatever did you marry *him* for?" A girl sniffed.  
  
I wanted to crawl under my desk and scream, but controlled myself. Was I *ever* this obnoxious? "My personal life is not the subject at hand. We are now going to begin class."  
  
More indolent sneers and snickers.  
  
AAAAAAH!  
  
~*~ Salazar ~*~  
  
News traveled quickly that my mother was a Gryffindor. Just after lunch, an older student with silvery blonde hair wearing an ugly sneer cornered me. "We don't like *your* sort. You're not a *real* Slytherin," he informed me. "Why your father bothers with the likes of your mother..." I recognized him immediately.  
  
"Is none of your bloody business, now is it?" I countered coolly. Father would be proud. "If you had half a brain, you might be able to figure it out... must be family inbreeding. Why don't you consult your hired help?" I asked, gesturing toward the two enormous students who stood just behind him.  
  
Father and Mother had sat me down and explained everything over the summer. What I should say when people questioned why he'd married a Gryffindor Auror, who I should be wary around, who it was alright to trust, and what Father's supposed role was. It wouldn't do for me to let anyone know where his real loyalties were; I had no desire to make my mother a single parent.  
  
Draco Malfoy snarled. "You take that back. Now."  
  
I gave him an appraising look. "That's not the point. Think about it. Why would my father, with his... position, care about an Auror, hmm?"  
  
He thought about this a moment before a look of understanding crossed his face. "Oh, I see. He really is a clever sort... well, in that case, you let me know if anyone gives you trouble." He and his cronies walked off to class, and I breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
I hoped just then that the Sorting Hat had been right; I didn't feel terribly clever or cunning, but I knew I was going to need to be just that around here. At least I was more welcome in Slytherin than I would have been in Gryffindor.  
  
~*~ Snape ~*~  
  
I heard Draco Malfoy telling Salazar to let him know if anyone gave him any trouble and couldn't suppress a small smile. If Salazar had managed to convince him of his story, the child was fine now.  
  
Lyria burst into my office looking ready to cry. "I can't do this, Severus."  
  
"What *are* you talking about?" I asked her disbelievingly.  
  
"They hate me. *All* of them hate me. I knew you weren't considered teacher of the year, but does the entire student body loathe you? The quiet, harmless, studious Ravenclaws were throwing chalk at me!"  
  
Uh-oh. Calm her down before there was a full scale explosion. "It was your first day, they're testing you. Don't let them get to you.  
  
"Don't let them get to me?!? What would you like me to do, let them have some target practice?!?"  
  
I winced. "That's not what I mean. Put them in their places, of course."  
  
She gave me a look. "How many detentions do you give a day, anyway?"  
  
"I generally lose count around mid-morning," I told her, only half-joking. "I'm also fond of taking points, you might try that. Take some points from Slytherin and I'm sure the rest of the school will come around."  
  
"And you'll spontaneously combust."  
  
"After I give them back, of course, and smooth things over with them."  
  
"Of course," she smiled. "You may be on to something, Severus."  
  
"Of course I'm on to something. I'm clever. Now go on, you've got a class... seventh year Slytherins, I believe?"  
  
Appeased, she left and went back upstairs to her classroom.  
  
Two crises averted in less than a half hour. Out of family mode and into teacher mode, now, there are first years in that dungeon that need to be intimidated.  
  
~*~ Salazar ~*~  
  
The Slytherins accepted me quickly, but the Gryffindors seemed to think I was fair game as victim to their pranks. Two red-haired seventh years in particular liked to plant dungbombs in my backpack, though they weren't alone.  
  
When the famous Harry Potter joined the "fun," however, things were brought to a screeching halt.  
  
Father caught him trying to toss a firework in my soup one night at dinner.  
  
For a moment, I was afraid Father was going to explode or spontaneously combust (as Mum says) or some other awful thing. Then I began to feel very, very sorry for Harry Potter.  
  
Father was *furious.* I tried to remember the last time he was so angry and realized I'd never seen him like that. He began to bellow at Potter, taking off points and assigning him a detention while yelling louder and more angrily than any Howler. I made a note to myself to never make him angry. The hall was absolutely silent while Father screamed at Potter.  
  
"Shameful, disgusting behavior!" Professor McGonagall joined in. Apparently I had quite a fan club without knowing it.  
  
"While I quite agree with you, Severus, calm down please, there seems to be no harm done." Dumbledore said mildly.  
  
Mother placed a hand on his arm, and with a last deadly glare at Potter, he went back to the head table.  
  
~*~ Remus ~*~  
  
It was as if a moment of complete understanding passed between us. I'd seen him as just the monster who'd tried to ruin my life and taken my cousin away, but it was as if I was looking at someone else now.  
  
No, he certainly wasn't perfect... but... was anyone?  
  
Watching how he defended his son threw my entire opinion of him upside down.  
  
He loved that child dearly. The anger at Harry was evident, but what most everyone missed was the fear. The thought that his son might have been hurt had shaken him.  
  
And if he felt that way about his child, he certainly felt that way about his wife.  
  
The natural reaction served as a rude awakening to me. Snape, greasy git that he was, did love Lyria. She was happy, the children were happy and seemed well-adjusted despite the peculiarity of their situation. And I-I had been the real asshole, not him. I'd been a stubborn idiot and refused to even try to accept the facts.  
  
Yes, I most certainly deserved a kick in the head, as Lyria would have told me.  
  
Well, nothing to do now but talk to the pair of them later.  
  
~*~ Sirius ~*~  
  
I'd entertained a few wild fantasies of winning Lyria away from him, but that evening at dinner shattered them.  
  
He cared for her and the children - loved him as best as a nasty, greasy Slytherin was able to love anyone. And Lyria loved him back, as much as the thought twisted my insides.  
  
I'd have to talk to him later... and for that matter, give my Godson a good talking to.  
  
~*~ Snape ~*~  
  
Lyria rather vanished after dinner - had a few detentions to handle. For once, I didn't, so I decided to head off to the Staff Room and correct papers.  
  
I arrived to find it empty with the exception of one Remus Lupin.  
  
Maybe the Staff Room wasn't such a good idea...  
  
"I'm not planning on raising a stink," Lupin said immediately. "I just wanted to apologize."  
  
Now this was rich. I raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue.  
  
"I... well, I was a bit of an idiot, and I'm sorry."  
  
"Apology accepted. But I think you'd be better to talk to Lyria."  
  
"I know." He winced. "But I think she's going to kill me."  
  
"She's dealt with me this long. You're family." I told him. "She may maim you, but she'll leave you alive."  
  
"You're a real ray of sunshine," he sighed and left the Staff Room.  
  
The instant he left, another person I'm not terribly fond of entered the room.  
  
Sirius Black.  
  
"What do you want?" I hissed.  
  
"You won't believe it, but I'm not here to aggravate you this time," he said. There was a grave expression on his face, and he hesitated before he continued. "She loves you, you know."  
  
"Yes. I know."  
  
Another lengthy pause. "And you... you love her?"  
  
"More than my life."  
  
"Then... take care of my girl."  
  
A moment of understanding passed between us. I could have told him I had been, or that it was his fault she hadn't married him, or simply gloated that I'd finally beaten him at something. But I didn't. "I will." 


End file.
